i want this (us)
by thespacenico
Summary: Pidge dares Lance to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with Keith during a game of Truth or Dare, thinking she's doing them a favor. What she doesn't know, is that they're already together.


So here's the thing.

When Hunk mentions Truth or Dare amongst the vast array of Earth games he's listing for Allura, and she states that she's never heard of it, _of course_ that means they have to drop everything immediately and play—at least, according to Lance. Besides, what right do they have to deny her the experience of such a riveting game, and what sort of teachers would they be if they did?

"I suppose it sounds like it could be fun," Allura admits cautiously after he explains the rules.

"Trust me," he grins. "This is the peak of Earth culture."

"It's really not," Keith sighs, at which Pidge nods in agreement, but they don't put up much of a fight when Lance drags them all into the lounge and makes them sit in a circle on the floor, despite the presence of a perfectly functional couch in the same room.

And so, like any game of Truth or Dare, Lance expects there to be plenty of awkward, mortifying questions of truth and an abundance of totally weird, uncomfortable dares (nothing too scandalous—they _are_ playing with a princess, after all). Honestly, they've essentially dedicated their efforts to embarrassing each other or causing minimal physical pain more than anything else. Keith, of all people, dares Allura to eat a spoonful of something Hunk found in the kitchen that looks suspiciously like cinnamon. Needless to say, it is indeed not cinnamon, is in fact much worse, and they have to put the game on hold for several minutes while Hunk pats her back as she chokes and coughs and Keith apologizes profusely.

Lance isn't above admitting that he's kind of cheating when he always chooses dare—there's virtually nothing anyone can make him do that could possibly embarrass him. Truth, on the other hand, leaves too much opportunity for just that, which is why he typically steers clear of it. But no one seems to call him out for it, so he doesn't feel too bad.

"Okay Lance, truth or dare?" Hunk asks when it's his turn, leaning back on his hands.

"What do you think?" Lance raises an eyebrow at him from where he's lying on the ground.

Hunk sighs. "Just answer the question so we can make sure."

"Dare, obviously," Lance huffs. "I'm no coward."

"I think it's your turn to choose, Pidge," Allura says.

"I know, I know," Pidge groans, rubbing her temples. "I'm trying to think of a good one."

"Make him wash his hair with food goo for a week or something," Keith suggests from across the circle, his arms folded over his chest as he leans his back against the couch.

Lance peeks over his stomach and shoots him a look. "Very funny, mullet."

He lays his head back down on the floor as Pidge's eyes flick back and forth between him and Keith for a moment, a mischievous grin spreading slowly across her face. "Lance, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven."

"Oooh," Hunk gasps as Lance's eyes widen and he flies up into a sitting position.

"Pidge," Lance hisses through his teeth, fixing her with the most evil death glare he can muster. "I want you to think very carefully about what you're doing."

"What's seven minutes in heaven?" Allura asks, confused.

"Who with, Pidge?" Hunk presses, biting his lip and bringing his juice pouch up to his mouth as if to hide his sheepish smile when Lance turns his glare on him.

Pidge's grin grows impossibly wider. "Keith."

Hunk chokes on his juice and Lance feels his cheeks grow hot.

"Okay hold on, how come I'm being dragged into this?" Keith argues. "It's Lance's dare!" He pauses, then echoes Allura's question. "Wait, what's seven minutes in heaven?"

"Is it another Earth game?" Allura asks.

"Don't worry, we'll explain it to you," Hunk manages, smacking a fist against his chest in an attempt to clear his throat.

 _"After_ you two have left," Pidge adds.

"Don't I need to know the rules if I'm supposed to play?" Keith points out.

"Ah," she nods. "I'm sure Lance will be happy to explain them to you. Right, Lance?"

Everyone turns their eyes toward Lance as he climbs to his feet, still glaring intensely. "Of course," he says with mock politeness, trying to ignore the way his cheeks are burning and his stomach is twisting nervously. "C'mon, Keith."

He doesn't wait, but he hears Keith sigh as he turns and marches toward the doors of the lounge with his chin in the air.

"Have fun!" Pidge calls, and Lance shoots her one last lethal glare before Keith catches up and the doors slide closed behind them, leaving them alone in the hallway.

Lance is keenly aware of Keith following close behind him as they walk quietly down the hall, keeping his eyes peeled for a room they can kind of sort of comfortably occupy for the next seven minutes, his heart rate increasing expontentially the longer they walk. Leave it to Pidge to pull something like this. _Of course_ she would pull something like this. Keith nearly runs into him when he stops abruptly at another door. He smacks the button and it slides open. "In here."

They both peek inside, observing the mess of weird Altean technology and what looks like the same cleaning supplies that Lance remembers using to wipe down the healing pods with Coran.

Keith levels him with an unimpressed look. "Really?"

Lance huffs. "Would you just—" Keith rolls his eyes again as Lance pushes him inside before following, letting the door slide closed behind him with a quiet hiss. He sees Keith blink as his eyes adjust to the sudden dark, his face illuminated only by the faint blue glow emanating from something sitting on the shelves beside them. There's a moment of quiet, and then Lance leans back against the door. "So. We have seven minutes."

Keith smirks. "Well, then." He presses a hand against the metal beside Lance's head and leans in slightly. "We'd better make them count."

"Just kiss me already," Lance sighs, tangling his fingers in Keith's shirt and tugging him forward.

Okay, so, it's very possible that both of their reactions to Pidge's dare in the lounge had all just been an act. Because they may have—possibly—already been doing things just like this for weeks now. Maybe even months. Okay, months. So yeah, of course Pidge would be the one to pull something like this, but Lance doesn't actually mind. She probably thinks she's doing the two of them a favor. She is.

Anyway, Keith knows exactly what "seven minutes in heaven" is. And if kissing Keith is supposed to be a dare, then Lance has completely redefined what it means to be a daredevil.

He's never quite understood how Keith's lips are so freaking _soft,_ completely opposite of everything else Keith is—blunt, impulsive, rough around the edges. It catches him off guard every time, which is really freaking annoying because it always lets Keith easily take control. But Keith is a really good kisser, so. Lance isn't particularly complaining.

Lance closes his eyes and lets Keith pin him against the door, his breath hitching when he feels Keith's other hand slip just underneath the hem of his shirt and settle on his waist. He parts his mouth slightly and Keith immediately answers, their noses brushing together as he turns his head to get the best angle. His hand falls from the space behind Lance's head to his chin, tilting it up ever so slightly, and Lance finds himself following his movements, tightening his hold on Keith's shirt.

Lance feels Keith smiling against his lips when he tugs lightly on Lance's bottom lip and makes him gasp a little, reaching up to card his other hand through Keith's hair. Keith breaks away and starts pressing light kisses to the corner of Lance's mouth, trailing down to his jaw, and eventually to his neck. Lance reaches for Keith's shoulder and tightens his grip in Keith's hair as he moves to give him better access.

"How long's it been?" Keith mutters, his voice vibrating softly against Lance's throat and making him sigh in contentment.

"Does it matter?" Lance mumbles, shifting a little against the door when Keith's lips ghost over his jaw and up to the skin underneath his ear. "Keith, that tickles. Okay— _ohmygodkeithstop_ —"

"Sorry," Keith mutters, letting out a huff of laughter and pressing a few more kisses across the bridge of Lance's nose for good measure before returning to his neck.

Lance relaxes, his fingers slipping down to the back of Keith's neck and tugging him closer, which is pointless because Keith is already as close as he can get. He can feel his own quickened pulse under Keith's mouth, hear the way his breath keeps hitching slightly every time he breathes in and shaking quietly every time he breathes out.

Keith has always seemed to have that sort of effect on Lance. He always knows how to get just underneath his skin, how to make his breath catch and his heart race. It's like his adrenaline spikes every time Keith even comes near him, each time their hands purposely brush underneath the table at meals, each gentle 'stay safe' touch on the elbow just before a mission, each secret smile shared across the room when no one else is looking.

He's addicted. Addicted, to the softness of Keith's lips on his throat, to the gentleness of his touch on his skin, to his eyes the color of a storm on the verge of breaking, to the constant high he feels when he's near, to the sudden rush of relief every time he sees Keith safely on the ground after a mission—

Lance frowns.

"Hey, Keith?" he says, gasping a little when Keith sucks lightly at a spot right where his neck meets his jaw.

"Hm?" Keith hums against his skin, and Lance shivers, and he wants so badly to pull Keith back up and kiss him until their mouths hurt and their lips are swollen and his neck aches and okay, wow, now he's very aware of Keith's warm hand on his hip and his mouth on his neck and his breath on his skin and then it's all too much and suddenly he's panicking.

"Wait—" Lance's eyes fly open and he pushes on Keith's chest, who immediately pulls back in confusion, gripping Lance's shoulder. "Keith," Lance takes a shaky breath. "Wait."

"What?" Keith's brow furrows in concern. "Did I do something wrong—"

"No, I—" Lance tries to steady his breathing, his heart thumping in his chest. "No. It's not you."

Keith's grip on his shoulder loosens, but stays, his eyes searching. "Then what is it?"

Lance swallows, biting his lip nervously and averting his gaze. He suddenly feels off-center, unbalanced. His heart is still racing, his jacket is hanging half off his shoulders, and Keith's fingers are still warm on his waist and that's making it _really_ difficult to concentrate right now. He hesitates, then: "What are we?"

It grows quiet. Lance is a little bit terrified of looking up to see the expression on Keith's face. If his heart wasn't beating fast enough before, it definitely is now, and he hopes Keith can't hear it, but the silence only seems to amplify the sound in his chest. When he finally musters up the courage to lift his eyes, Keith seems to be studying him, his expression carefully neutral. He pulls back a little more as if to get a better look at him. "You didn't want to talk about this when I asked you the same question a few weeks ago."

"Okay, well," Lance glances down again, but there's only so much to look at in the tiny, dark closet they're currently stuffed in. "I do now."

He can still feel Keith's gaze on him as he frowns at an overturned bottle of red liquid lying on the ground near their feet. The only reason he doesn't look up is because he already knows what he'll see: Keith's stormy eyes, furrowed brow, set jaw, the way he always gets when he's searching, looking for some kind of explanation. Lance feels too vulnerable and exposed right now to hold out against it. But then Keith's hand slips from his shoulder, the warmth disappears from his hip, and suddenly he wishes he hadn't said anything at all.

"What do you want us to be?" Keith asks quietly.

Lance huffs. "I don't know."

He knows he's said the wrong thing when Keith crosses his arms and frowns. "You don't know," he repeats, unimpressed.

Lance opens his mouth and fumbles for a response, but comes up empty, still unable to fully meet Keith's eyes. Keith's expression falters.

"Are you—" His brow creases. "Are you embarrassed by me or something?"

"What?" Lance almost chokes. _"No,_ nonono, that's not it at all."

Keith seems to relax, but only slightly. He rubs his arm uncertainly. "Then why are you so afraid of the others knowing?"

Lance picks at the sleeves of his jacket. "Because that would mean—I don't know. I guess I'm just freaked out by the idea of having some kind of label? That would make it seem so much more real."

There's a flicker of hurt in Keith's eyes and Lance winces, mentally slapping himself for being so careless with his words. And he can hear the same hurt in Keith's voice, although he seems to do his best to hide it. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"Yes—I mean—" Lance hears Keith inhale a short, quiet breath, and he rushes on to correct himself. "No! I just mean—" He shakes his head in frustration and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "If it's real, then I have a really good chance at screwing it up somehow."

Keith stares at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Keith," Lance lets out a breath, pushing a hand through his hair. "Look, this—" he gestures between them and around the closet. "This is fun, or whatever. Sneaking around together and holding hands under the table and kissing in the dark and doing dumb stuff like that is fun." Keith almost looks crestfallen when Lance looks up, so he stumbles onward in a sort of panic to explain himself. "What I'm trying to say is—Keith—" He takes a deep breath. "Every time we leave for a mission, I get this really, sick, awful feeling in my chest, like—"

Realization finally seems to dawn on Keith, and his face softens. "Lance."

Lance ignores him, tries to get out the rest of his thought before he can lose his nerve. "Because whatever happens out in space is pretty much totally out of my control, and I just get really— _worried,_ because what if something happens to you? I can't be close to you like this when we're out there and that makes me panic. I _panic,_ Keith."

"Lance—"

"And that feeling doesn't go away until we get back," Lance continues, holding his hands to his chest and staring at the ground. "And not even when we get back—it's not until I actually see you. My chest feels like it's actually gonna explode until I see you, and when I finally do you're like, the only thing that matters and it just—"

His mouth snaps shut when Keith clamps his hands on both sides of his face. "Oh my god. Lance."

"It just scares me," Lance whispers, keeping his eyes down and resting his hands on Keith's chest. "It scares me how much I want this. Us."

He looks up this time, when he feels Keith's searching gaze on him again. And even when he thought he was prepared for it, it still takes his breath away when he finally meets Keith's eyes—unyielding, unwavering, unrelenting—but also gentle, and cautious. It's the same look Keith gave him when he kissed Lance for the first time, when he was trying to gauge his reaction, make sure it was okay. Make sure Lance wanted it. And he did. He still does.

"Okay," Keith says quietly. He looks at Lance for a moment longer, his hands lingering on Lance's cheeks. Lance hopes maybe Keith is thinking about kissing him again until a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Also, I think it's been seven minutes."

He laughs as Lance's eyes widen and he fumbles to get the door open, snatching Keith's wrist and yanking him out into the hallway before immediately starting for the lounge.

"Lance, relax," Keith tries, pulling on his hand to slow him down. "Hey, wait."

He resists. "Keith, we've already been gone long enough, if we're gone any longer they'll never let us hear the end of it—"

"Lance." Keith pulls harder and forces him to a stop. Lance turns to complain, but stops at the look on Keith's face. His expression is suddenly very serious, his brow creased again but in a different way that makes Lance's stomach jump nervously. Keith bites his lip and rubs the back of his neck. "Look, if—if you don't want to tell the rest of the team about us just yet, that's okay. I won't push it anymore." His hand slips out of Lance's and he glances down at the ground. "Just… think about it?"

Lance swallows, trying to ignore the feeling of Keith's warmth fading from his palm. "Yeah. Okay."

Keith offers a small smile that seems a little forced. "Okay." He gestures at the doors behind them. "After you."

"Such a gentleman," Lance mutters, and Keith's smile grows a little at that.

Everyone's eyes snap toward them the instant the doors slide open. Pidge and Hunk obviously must have explained the game to Allura, because her eyes widen slightly and she watches curiously as Lance and Keith both return to their original spots on the floor.

Pidge narrows her eyes at them. "So, how was it?"

"Heavenly," Lance says, feigning sarcasm. Apparently his acting is pretty good, because everyone looks sort of disappointed by the overall lack of a reaction. Lance spares a quick glance at Keith, who's folded his arms back over his chest and is studying his feet. "So, whose turn is it?"

"Uh," Hunk seems to snap back into the present. "Keith's turn. Truth or dare, Keith?"

Keith looks up, considering. He shrugs. "Dare, I guess."

"And it's your turn to choose the dare, Lance," Allura adds.

Lance starts. "Oh. Uh." He fully turns his gaze on Keith, who returns it slowly, his expression open yet guarded.

Everyone waits patiently as Lance stares at him, trying to come up with some kind of dare, but his stomach is flipping and his thoughts are racing and really all he's thinking about is their recent conversation in that tiny cramped closet, and the words Keith said to him just before they re-entered the lounge. _Just think about it._ Lance is thinking about it. That's suddenly all Lance can think about. Them. _Us._

Keith's eyes narrow the slightest bit, like he senses Lance's hesitation but isn't sure what it means, and that's when Lance makes his decision. And he's still kind of terrified, but maybe that's what makes it easier. _This is it. Here goes nothing._ He takes a deep breath and meets Keith's eyes.

"I dare you to kiss me."

Keith doesn't react immediately. Lance's stomach flips again, but he holds his gaze, ignoring the surprised choking noises coming from Hunk and the way Pidge's mouth drops open and Allura's eyebrows shoot up. Then the corners of Keith's mouth twitch up, and a slow smile spreads across his face, and the rest of the group watches with wide eyes and open mouths as he unfolds his arms, climbs onto his knees, and crawls across the circle toward Lance.

He pauses just when there's only an inch of space left between them, not even trying to hide the fact that he's staring openly at Lance's mouth. He smiles again. "Gladly," he murmurs, and then Lance hears Allura gasp and Hunk yelling at Pidge not to look before Keith leans in and Lance closes his eyes and then Keith's lips are on his.

When they break away, the other three are still staring at them. Pidge's glasses are skewed on her nose from struggling against Hunk's protective hand. "Wait," she says slowly, mouth still gaping. "You two are—"

"Yeah," Keith says without taking his eyes off Lance, still smiling. "We are."

"You mean—"

"Yes, Pidge," Lance snorts. "You literally just gave us an excuse to go make out in a dark closet for seven minutes."

"Ohmygosh, please, ew, no," Hunk groans, covering his hands with his face as Pidge makes some very dramatic gagging noises.

Lance rolls his eyes as Keith sits back on his feet with a smirk. "Please. Like that wasn't the entire point of the dare."

"It's not a dare if you _want_ to do it!" Pidge argues.

Allura still looks like she's trying to solve a puzzle, her eyes flicking back and forth between Lance and Keith until Lance almost feels dizzy watching her. "Everything makes sense now," she mutters, mostly to herself, but it gets a laugh out of Keith.

"How long were you guys planning on keeping this a secret?" Hunk asks, incredulous.

Keith looks at Lance, his eyes shining, his mouth still curled up into a smile, and Lance thinks he might be in love, just a little bit. Maybe a lot. "Doesn't matter," he grins, reaching out and taking the collar of Keith's jacket. "Secret's out."

And then he pulls Keith forward, Hunk squeaks, Pidge yelps in protest as he goes to cover her eyes again, and Allura just smiles.


End file.
